She Was Never Mine to Hold
by TheLovelyJudy
Summary: One of Alex's new gang members makes a tragic mistake, and Alex teaches him a cruel and twisted lesson. One Shot, Rape.


**She Was Never Mine to Hold**

Summary: One of Alex's new gang members makes a tragic mistake, and Alex teaches him a cruel and twisted lesson. One-Shot, Rape.

Rick, Len, and Bully are from the book. They are Alex's new gang by the end of the novel, so there you go. However the description in the book says that Alex and his new droogs have bald heads and hair on the sides. The very idea of Alex without his luscious hair makes me shudder. No, just…No.

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Amazing grace, how sweet the sound  
That saved a wretch like me.  
I once was lost, but now I'm found.  
'Twas blind, but now I see.

'Twas grace that taught my heart to fear  
And grace my fears relieved.  
How precious did that grace appear  
The hour I first believed.

When we've been there ten thousand years  
Bright shining as the sun,  
We've no less days to sing God's praise  
Then when we first begun.

Amazing grace, how sweet the sound  
That saved a wretch like me.  
I once was lost, but now I'm found.  
Was blind, but now I see.

-Amazing Grace

My name is Rick, I would tell you my full name but it's really not important. I am never going to meet you face to face, (or litso to listo as Alex would say) because you see; I am dead. It is very dark and cold, which is surprising since I threw myself into the river, drowning myself because she was dead and the sun had stopped shining. I was sixteen years old, right now they're still debating whether or not I should go to heaven or hell. It's a sort of trial, with God as the judge and angels as the jury.

While I wait, I will tell you my story. For dead man can tell no lies. I have done things, horrible things but I'm not a horrible person. I only wanted to be accepted, to have friends and this clouded my morality. I was never as vicious as Bully or Len, and I could never be as terrible as our leader Alexander Delarge. I was fourteen years old when I met Alex, he scared me even then to be honest—but I was a shy person and most people scared me. I preferred to sit in my room and draw rather than socialize with others.

But Alex was charismatic, and to be honest with you; me becoming a part of his gang was a sort of blur. It's not that I enjoyed beating up people or watching as he and the others would force themselves on girls as young as ten (it made my stomach knot and twist) but they were the first people who made me feel accepted, on the day we met; Alex saved me from three bullies. I recognized him and became fearful, "No need to look so poogly, little brother. I don't plan on harming you"

Alex was a sort of God in our eyes, an angel of destruction. The Ludivico Technique, which had made him violently ill at the sight or thought of violence had lead him to an attempted suicide—I wasn't sure about the details and never thought to ask. But he told me it was a dark, dark time in his life. I remember thinking he was a survivor, like a warrior coming from the ashes of a battle. I was only fourteen, and I didn't realize or truly understand the pain he'd inflicted on countless people.

He was interested in me, didn't ignore me or brush me aside. I didn't feel like an outcast or a freak when I was with him, I felt accepted and wanted. I finally had somewhere to belong, and by the time I realized I didn't want to destroy or hurt anything or anyone; it was too late and I didn't know how to get out. Alex was charismatic, intelligent, charming and cultured; yes. But he was also violent, sadistic, vicious, and downright merciless. I recall now, him breaking Bully's fingers for no reason other than boredom.

He'd whacked me a few times with his cane, for what I cannot remember.

Her name was Margarita; but she went by Rita. It has a nice ring, doesn't it? Rick and Rita; I can remember carving those two names into a tree; locking them inside of heart. I met her when I was fifteen, and didn't tell the others because she was mine. Not mine to hurt or give the ol'in-out in-out real savage, as Alex would do to poor undeserving girls. Mine to hold, to kiss, and to love; she smelled like strawberries, her lips tasted like that to.

I have never raped a girl, never wanted to. I couldn't even watch them do it, it made me sick. I was more comfortable with ultra-violence; beating up people. When I started to feel sorry, I would think about my parents and teachers and the boys who bullied me. And suddenly it wasn't a helpless old man, it was my father or Mr. Thorton and I saw red and could not stop.

I lost myself, I became the emotional tormenter of our group. Mocking our victims, (except for the girls) and taunting them with a sharp voice I barely recognized as my own. And as they were forced to hear my vicious words; I would think to myself "There' really no harm in this, really no harm" but I knew better, I knew how deep the sting of biting words could be.

So why did I intentionally inflict that pain on somebody else?

I don't know. I guess I was just angry. Yes, I remember being so angry almost all of the time. But hurting people didn't make me less angry, it only made me feel sick and horrible. And yet, I continued to do it; only drawing the line at rape. Alex didn't really mind, when I told him I didn't want to do that he merely said; "Welly-Welly-Well; little brother. More for us then, I suppose"

Back to Rita

Margarita Romando's mother was from Spain, her father born here in London. Her exotic beauty took my breath away, her light Spanish accent made my knees buckle. She was born in a little town in Spain, and her family had moved to London to escape a war. She was thirteen years old, and I remember her struggling sometimes to speak proper English. I thought it cute, when she'd slip into her native tongue. While Alex no longer attended school and Bully and Len just simply didn't care to go, I liked school and I liked learning. And I was selected to be her guide of sorts.

She was bullied, I remember people telling her to go back to Mexico where she belonged. We'd both arch an eyebrow at their stupidity, but in their mind black skin meant "Go back to Africa" and light brown skin meant"Go back to Mexico" for them, there was no Spain, Argentina, Chile, or anything else. This city was full of prejudice and ignorance, but by time I was sixteen and she a fourteen years old—she was fluent in English, and she had a sharp tongue. No longer did she put her face on my shoulder and cry silently after their cruel remarks "Nobody wants you here, nobody likes you"

I remember she punched Tiffany Starkins in the face, split her lip open. It was the first time I felt pleased at the sight of such a violent thing, because it was deserved. Tiffany was a bitch to everybody, and from that moment on people respected her and feared her. She wasn't a violent person though, she had a temper and she was passionate but she was protective of people she loved and had a heart of gold.

In my eyes, she was perfection.

It took me a whole damn year, to realize how gorgeous she was. All of Alex's victims, his "conquests" as he called them were all beautiful. But I refused to acknowledge that, somehow it made it harder to watch or accept. Seeing something beautiful and pure being tainted and destroyed made me feel as if I was dying or something, you know? Perhaps that is shallow, but as I said before—dead man tell no lies.

I wasn't even sure anymore why I still hung out with them, I didn't enjoy beating people up or watching for cops or listening to their laughter as they sexually tormented girls ranging from ten to thirty years of age. I didn't enjoy the screams of innocence being ripped away or my mother's worry over me being out so late all of the time. I didn't enjoy the shame I felt when I sat with Rita during lunch, and remembered a girl the night before screaming under Alex as he viciously raped her—because she was Rita's age.

The thought of that happening to Rita…oh sweet Jesus, no

Alex was not stupid, he knew something was happening with me; "Come Come Come little brother, little droog. Tell us then, what's been on thou rassodock this nochy?" I shrugged, not meeting his eyes. He put his arm around my shoulders and squeezed, to an outsider this would look chummy but I knew better. I could feel his fingernails digging into my shoulder, I winced and he cracked a wicked little smile.

I lost

"There's…there's this devotchka…I sort of like her that's all" I was trying to be as vague as possible, but Alex wasn't satisfied. "Oh, has little Ricky found himself a sladky malenky devotchka to finally give the old in out in out real savage like? Do you plan on sharing, brother?" My throat went dry, "She's not that type of girl Alex, she's…she's a good person" even then I knew how stupid I sounded, Alex didn't care if she was nice or mean. As long as she was pretty and had a vagina, he was good to go.

It didn't matter to him if they cried out in ecstasy or screamed in agony.

The Angels are whispering amongst themselves, their fingers flipping through countless files. Heaven or Hell…Hell or Heaven, Alex is still alive. I can see him, laying on his bed listening to his Beethoven. The news of my death didn't sway him, he muttered to his pet snake (He'd gotten a new one after his old one, who I'd never met, was sold) about being surrounded by weak, pathetic little boys.

"What is her eemya, brother?" His voice was knives soaked in acid.

"…Alex, leave her alone…please"

It was then that he pulled out the knife or britva, it shimmered in the moonlight and sliced through the skin on my arm, tearing through the white fabric of my shirt as easily as paper and the red blood flowed. I groaned in pain, it was not a deathly like cut but it didn't feel like sunshine and lollipops either. "Tell me her eemya right now, or I'll sneak quiet like into thou domy and slit your em's shiyah. Does thou comprehend the slovos coming out of my rot, little brother?"

I loved my mother. She didn't always pay attention to me but I know she loved me, I understand now that she was never deliberately ignoring me. I understand now that she never stopped loving me, not even for a moment. She was a hard worker and by the time she'd get home, she'd be physically and emotionally drained. I was angry at her for not paying attention, but I never hated her.

Alex was not a bluffer, and even if I ratted him out and he was arrested it would not change the fact that my mother was dead. And so, "Her name is Margarita" Alex's eyebrows shot up, he smirked his devil's smirk. "What an exotic eemya, and where does she hail from?" I felt so uncomfortable, "She was born in Spain" he guffawed, slapping his thigh and grinning. "Welly-Welly-Well then, viddy well my brothers. Our malenky droog has found himself an exotic like soomka, yes?"

"**Jury, have we reached a verdict?" The Judge/God asks…**

"Alex, I'm begging you, leave this one alone."

"Bring her to the Korova tonight, brother" he didn't need to give me a threat, his voice was still filled with those acid knives, a charming smile tugging at his lips so that someone far from us would think we we're having a pleasant conversation. "Yes, brother" I replied, looking downward knowing I had lost the battle. There was no winning against Alex, especially for me. My opinions and morals did not matter, I obeyed without a single word and that day was the first I'd tried to resist his orders.

It would prove to a tragic mistake.

That night or nochy, I invited Rita to participate in my alternate life. "You don't have to come, if you don't want to" I told her, hoping she'd decline. The heavens decided to turn their backs on me that night. "I would love to spend some time with you, I only ever get to see you at school!" and so we went together to the Korova milk bar, my heart pounding the entire time. I kept telling myself that everything would be fine, surely Alex respected me enough as his droog and brother to not harm her?

I had always tried to be good droog, even when his actions made me sick.

She was dressed in a royal purple dress, the top loose around her chest and weighed down by her heavy necklaces, her hair swept to the side, her lips painted red. The hem of her skirt stopped just above her knees, long enough to be considered lady like but short enough to draw attention to her nice legs, legs that would be gorgeous as she got older. She was only fourteen years old. She'd told her mother that we were going to Melodia and the Pasta Parlour. I felt as if I would throw up at any moment.

"**Yes your honor, we have…" the angels reply**

"Rita this is Alex…Alex this is Rita" please don't hurt her. "I am shocked brother, how could thou hide such a beauty? You are indeed a sneety to smot, my sweet" there it was, that infamous Alex charm. I remember being envious of him, he was always enchanting girls while I got all tongue tied. Rita was the first girl I was comfortable with. We'd kissed two weeks before. We'd hopped the fence of a school and played on their playground, I kissed her on the cheek while she swung lazily on the tire-swing, and she kissed me on the lips. Her hair was like silk in my hand.

Even intelligent and witty Margarita was not immune to it. For even though she was smart and sharp-tongued, she was still a fourteen year old girl, she gave him a bashful smile. "It's nice to meet you too, Rick talks about you all the time" this was not a lie, I talked about his "good" side but never about his violence and cruelty, his illness that none of us spoke of. My paternal uncle was a professor of psychology, and I'd read through countless disorders to try and figure out Alex's…problems. I was not a professional in any sense but gathering from what I read, he seemed to fit under the Narcissistic Personality Disorder and the Anti-Social Personality Disorder.

Bully eyed her, I could see the wheels in brain coming to life. He licked his lips. "Come sit with us, have thou tasted the sweetness of milk-plus?" Alex lead the way into the milk bar and she gasped at the décor, I apologized to her quietly out of the corner of my mouth. She smiled at me, and gave my hand a squeeze. I had never felt comfortable around the naked women statues, Alex was though. He even used them as foot rests, another example of his complete lack of respect for females.

To him their only purpose was to squirm underneath him.

I used to keep track, during the time I'd known him he'd raped twenty-two girls. Fifteen were so drunk they could not remember it the next morning and their only evidence was their torn knickers and the bruises on their thighs. Then there was the fifteen he'd seduced only to leave behind in the dust, forgotten and unloved. Some of them had genuinely fallen in love with him.

I assured her that her drink was not laced with drugs like ours, but Alex made a tutting sound at me. "Let the malenky devotchka live a little, yes?" and he urged to take a sip from his. Rita was not a rebellious person usually, but I think—being next to a twenty something year old—she wanted to seem mature. So she took a small sip. "That's…interesting" she said, interesting was a word she used when she didn't like something. I cracked a small smile.

Alex chuckled, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. "What warbles do you slooshy, darling?" Len and I exchanged looks, this was one of his traps. "Oh…everything I guess, I'm not particular. How about you?" we all knew his answer before it slipped from his mouth, "I adore Beethoven, sladky sladky Ludwin Van." I thought she'd smile, but I forgot that she was an honest person.

"I never really cared for him; I tried to but…meh"

I could practically hear the hurricane coming. There were storm clouds in Alex's blue eyes. His grip tightened too hard and she winced, but she was not scared—she didn't realize then how frightening or dangerous he was. "How dare thou speak filthy of lovely, lovely Ludwin Van" and she looked to me for help, to tell him to calm down. Because it was her, I dared to. "She didn't say she hated him, brother. Not everybody shares your passion"

Those dangerous eyes flashed to me and I felt icy like fingertips crawl up my spine. "You're right, brother. Appy polly loggies, forgive me" he said to her, switching back to good Alex in the blink of an eye. "Th-That's alright, well…it was great meeting all of you, but um…I told my mom I'd be back at eleven thirty. It's a half hour walk you see, Rick…walk me home?"

I was all too eager

Alex's eyes followed us out of that door. I kept my hand on my club, just in case. And we'd been walking for about twenty minutes when I heard it, Alex whistling a famous American movie song. It was a song of glee and joy, of falling in love and he liked to use it during the most horrific and crude situations. _I'm singing in the rain, just singing in the rain…what a glorious feeling, I'm happy again_…he tainted it. He stepped out with his black cane on his shoulders, looking similar to a scarecrow from hell.

"Rita…run, trust me…just run" I hissed at her through my teeth, and as if one que—Len and Bully jumped out, grabbing me before I could fight back. And my quiet hiss became a scream, "Run! Damnit Rita, run!" and she did, or tried to anyway. Alex's arms wrapped around her waist, and all I could think was _She's fourteen years old for God's sake, she's just a baby._ I struggled against my captors but they held me down, I wasn't surprised by Bully but Len…I thought he was a truer friend than Alex and Bully.

They dragged us into an abandoned building, they pinned me down onto my stomach and I felt something sharp stabbing into my shoulder. A needle filled with drencom, which made you feel all slow and gloopy like. But I could see everything, Alex made sure of that. She was only fourteen years old. I watched as she screamed and fought and lost. They put a gag ball into my mouth, so I could not scream or even try to comfort her. He shoved her dress up to her waist and ripped it open, the fabric screamed as each fiber was forced apart in this violence.

And I remember she kept on fighting, even biting him hard on his shoulder and slamming her knee up into his groin. It only made him even angrier. He backhanded her so hard her eyes rolled back, her lip split open and he let his body crush her smaller one into the cement. His eyes met mine as he sucked hard on her bloody lip, rolling his hips into hers. Rita pushed at him and begged him to stop, she wouldn't tell anyone. Alex dragged her by her dark chocolate hair over to an old mattress, hole-filled and resting on a rusty old bed frame.

I watched as he tied her hands and feet to the bars, "Viddy well…little brother, viddy well" he shouted at me, with a sort of theatrical type of voice. She was bucking against the restrains, Bully was laughing and I could barely move. I heard her crying out, "No! No! No!" and then a heartbeat passed; she arched her back and screamed bloody murder when he slammed into her. And she kept on screaming, her face was contorted in pain. Her screams were swallowed by his mouth, crushing hers with cruel force.

He trailed his lips down her body, rocking his hips against hers while she struggled and sobbed. His hands were rough, fingernails digging into her skin and his teeth digging into her flesh. He stood up and released her restraints again, dragging her back towards me and forcing her onto her knees in front of me. She was bruised, down there. Thick vines of blood sprouting on her inner thighs, she was shaking and her eyes were empty; save for the tears that were spilling out.

Ink bleeding into paper

I tried to tell her I loved her, that I was so sorry. I had failed to protect her, I had failed. Alex forced onto her hands and knees, and he took her from behind. Her upper body was on the floor, her face buried in her arms, her screams muffled. I managed to free an arm long enough to put a hand on her arm, she understood but did not smile at me. She didn't know how anymore.

I forgot too

He raped her to teach me a lesson, he raped her to destroy something innocent, he raped her because he was bored and she pretty, he raped her because I had spoken out of turn, he raped her because I forgot my place in his hierarchy. He knew I was starting to separate myself from them, I had wanted out and nobody got out. Nobody, we were all his puppets.

And when a puppet came to life, when a puppet tried to take control over his own strings…those strings were cut. Alex hurt me by hurting my best friend, the person I admired and loved the most. I watched for nearly four hours as he hurt her, until she no longer screamed or even cried but merely laid there with a blank expression, storm clouds in her eyes. And then Bully took his turn, and then Len.

Alex bowed to her, "Thank you little sister, you have been most horrorshow indeed! itty off now, darling. Back to your mum and dada, right right?" and she obeyed, walking out on her earthquake shaking legs, all covered in bruises and bite marks and blood. The drencom was starting to wear off, but I was emotionally drained.

I should never have volunteered to be her guide, never should have shown interest in her or gotten close to her, never should have allowed myself to feel happy and warm in her presence. She belonged to fairy tales, I belonged to darkness. I didn't want to, but it suffocated out the sunshine.

She was never mine to hold

I did not deserve her.

I'm so sorry, Rita. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry…I'm sorry I couldn't save you, I'm sorry he hurt you so badly, I'm sorry Jennifer…Lucy…Katherine…Tina…I'm sorry for standing by as they forced you, tearing your innocence with their filthy hands while you all screamed and bled.

I'm so sorry…I'm so sorry.

"**We the jury, find the defendant…"**

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